The end is built into the beginning
The flurry summer haze lingered in the cold.
The scent of burnt soot and ash drifted across the land. The weary wind hissed
and hushed in the darkness. The city was asleep; lights were dying out as the distance
stars blinked in accord. The night was no stranger to solitude. It brooded over
the houses, covering them in a shroud of darkness, and loitered in the lonesome
streets, caressing the poles and posts with its tenderly touch.
It whispered a tune of melancholy blues. How
heavy was every note and lyric, as it traveled through the cracks of each
building and around the corners of each sidewalk. A desiccate and tasteless
song. It didn't last for long, carried away by the wind, wading its way out of
this dreary town. Silence endured.
There, a few miles away, stood a line of black
trees, of charcoal and charred wood. Piles of ashes peppered all over the dry
earth, bathing in heaves of smoke, covering a scatter of crumbled-up branches
and bones. A faint cry rang from afar, so feeble and fragile, the indescribable
agony of a helpless dying being, immediately torn apart by the wind and easily
subdued. A vain effort to seek rescue unable to reach anywhere, or anyone for
that matter. The night is unflinching, cruel and callous.
In the heart of the city the cover of a drain
burst open, and from within a raccoon poked its head into the night, glancing
around swiftly with its bulging eyes. Its pointy ears twitched and turned.
Slowly and heedfully it stepped out and ventured into the barren lands, peeking
around the vicinity. Just as he would assume. The streets were empty. The cars
were still. Everything was dead, and the smell of ashes and smoke choked his
every breath.
“Get the fuck out peasants,” groaned the furry
creature. There was a rumble from underground, shaking the buildings to their
foundations, and drains all over the city popped open one by one. Mammals of
all size and species set paws on the lonely lanes and lawns. They scuffled and
snarled at each other, scrambling through the maze of garbage and waste. There
was a howl in the dark. The shivering cold numbed their senses. They sprinted
through dirty abandoned corridors between the buildings and threw themselves to
any trashcan within their sights, as they yanked each other with their long
skinny limbs and dug into opened packages and plastics. The commotion lasted
for a while until someone let out a scream, and everyone started running in all
directions. The dogs had arrived, barking furiously, their jaws
drooling as they kicked and smacked their inferiors out of their paths
ferociously. The small creatures whined and whimpered as they succumbed to
their dominion, while slightly larger ones stood their grounds and persisted
before leaving off with bloody scars on their cheeks. The dog breeds secured
their bounty. They laughed manically, and regaled themselves with generous
storage of refreshments they had embezzled.
Somewhere in the outskirts two gaunt figures
toiled in the gloomy expanse. Through the shabby gates and fences they went
while the madness continued from where they came. Their paws were bruised and
scarred; their fur dull and lackluster. Their faces were aloof and languid, and
as they walked through the dense haze their bodies mingled with their
surroundings until they were barely discernible from the grey background.
Soon they reached flat land, a tundra that
stretched all the way into the horizon. It was barren, lifeless and forlorn,
albeit the presence of a few scattered ferns and moss. In front of them was a
pile of dirt. The otter proceeded to brush off its surface, revealing a
rectangular shape object buried underneath. A stone, made of rough granite,
anchored in mellow soil and unmolested by the punishing gust and rain.
“My condolences dude. This is the best I could
muster. Asked those fine folks to find the right rock and refined the edges,
carved on it... took us a solid year, but yeah its finally over. Glad you’n I
are still alive to see it to the very end.
Here, my friend, is the ending you asked
for."
The fox shut his eyes, nodding amicably. The
otter waited for a while and returned the nod. He turned back and proceeded
back the way they came. The fox remained at the spot, motionless in the
blistering cold.
There in the other side a mystic figure rose
upon the shadows and engulfed the entirety of his body in a swallow. A dash of
light ripped through the dark; the ground gave way to a bottomless trench and
he fell for as long as he could remember. A million cries were silenced and he
heard a hysterical laugh. He held his composure, and in a blink of an eye he
stood before a familiar scene, a pungent smell of smoke biting his nose, an
exquisite piece of stone erecting in front of him, a turbulent mind commingled
with dreams and imagination.
He walked forward and leaned towards the
stone, his head slanting, his eyes gazing at the markings on its surface.
“in memory of the flower fox ~ Tulip”
Tulip oh Tulip.
Can you hear me, Tulip? Can you feel my
presence? Brooding a foot from where I stand, you rest your body in gravel and
grass sprawls out of the dry rocks. You smile while you sleep, in a peaceful
longing, like the happy fox you once lived. You sing the melodies of evergreen.
The world sings with you in harmony. You have something in your mind. You are
thinking of me, and oh how silly of me to assume, for every time I tried to
probe you you giggled and fled in a frisky gait, and I was left in awe and
wonder of the quandry that you were. You tried to keep a distance and I tried
to closed it in. You were shy and I was curious. We were always meant for each
other.
My heart beats in a lively pulse. My veins
pulsate in a joyful rhythm. I laid myself to the ground, seeking keenly for the
sound of your breathing. Your heart once followed the beating of mine. I felt
it once. It was adorable. Your blood is frozen now but I know a time when it
flowed with the passion of a thousand suns. I remembered your suaveness, your
omniscience and your pride. I muddled through your soul and explored your
deepest secrets, you in your most genuine and vulnerable. What can I say except
that I relished every single bit of your beauty while it lasted!
Here is some food for you. A chunk of
delicious meat. I cleaned out the stains and took away the maggots. This is the
most of my rations, the best I could procure. Yes, Tulip, as it would imply, my
life is in shambles. My wish never came true. All that I have endeavored were
futile at the end of the day. My hope was high and yet my wounds are plentiful.
You can pity me, but I assure you I won't do that to myself, for you have
already changed me. You did wonders to my soul like no one ever did, and I
wouldn't even have thought of it myself. I haven't pursued that impossible
dream ever since that fateful day, and I do not regret anything. I brought you
a rose, Tulip. I have put it here, and you can see it well and clear. Can’t you
smell it, the fragrant floral scent that you and I adored from the very
beginning? I remember how we first met, and the tickling pain of its thorns sinking
into my tongue, as you made your grand entrance. I can remember the storm of
pink showering over your mystic figure, your beauty bristling in the gentle
wind. You and your rose has defined me forever.
It is cold out here, isn’t it? You see, you’ve
left this world a brutal place, after you took its color away with you. We are
all decaying, and fundamentally we are no different from you.
I was never a wise fox. I never come close to
understanding the ways of the universe, and every time I strive to break the
chains of reality I fail miserably, and so I lamented. I was a fool. When you
descended to your everlasting slumber, I mourned and pondered all day long, and
not until a year had passed when I suddenly came to this realization, that my
life hinges on the truth, and you have told the truth; the truth in the words
you spoke, truth in the ideas you abided by, towards which I used to object and
condone. But I can see it now, the flaws in my philosophy, the righteousness in
yours, and you were always right, that very day when you told me everything.
Forgive me Tulip. I take this moment to show you my deepest thoughts, and now
that the dust has settled, have become no more than a mirror of yours. You were
so right, Tulip, you were so right.
And it is because you are right that I am
still living. I have found the meaning behind everything, the reason to carry
on. It is the advent of that brief moment, that small window in time which I
thought we could hold on to forever, and never let it go. It still did, of course,
although to many it seems like the remains of such greatness has been long lost
in time. As you would have said had you been here, it never ended. It never
left. It is short-lived as much as it is ever-living. It goes down in our
memories just like it is the only thing that marks us, you and me, and what
makes me complete, and what puts you in your perennial glory.
Tulip oh Tulip, how I wish you still
remembered. How I wish I was in your heart all this time while you rested in
peace. You said we will always be together. You believed in that, don't you?
He put his paws on the frigid gravestone,
laying his snout on the rough surface.
I do miss you, Tulip. It is tough to see a
star die out, and... no matter how we've conquered it all. I still want you
back…
His blue eyes welled up and a thread of tears
dripped down his cheeks. His grief overwhelmed him has he broke down in the
dark, drenched in sorrow and pain. Curling up at the spot, caressing his body
with his brush, he nested over his dearly beloved soulmate.
Time flew by. There is no knowing how fast it
went. The night did not change its color. The tundra was stone cold. He opened
his eyes, shimmering in the starry glow. He looked up, and he looked down, and
he looked all around him. There was nothing at all. There was nothing left for
him. He closed his eyes again and a shadowy force lifted him off his feet,
taking him further and further away from familiar grounds until he too, was no
more.
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